The Messenger
by ObsidianMist
Summary: How Faye feels after Julia asks her to deliver a message to Spike.
1. Sinful Ambition

Title: The Messenger  
  
Author: Obsidian Mist  
  
Disclaimer: I know you might find this rather shocking, but I do not own Cowboy Bebop.  
  
Author's Notes: This is mainly from session 25, The Real Folk Blues (part one). I tried to stay true to the storyline, though I'm sure that some of the dialogue doesn't quite match. That said, I hope you enjoy and please review, as I desperately need feedback.  
  
1 The Messenger  
  
I had Ambition, by which sin  
  
The angels fell;  
  
I climbed and, step by step, O Lord,  
  
Ascended into Hell W.H. Davies  
  
Faye stared after the red convertible and the infamous Julia as the blond sped away. "When you see Spike tell him that I'll be waiting there, he'll know what I mean, tell him that I'll always be waiting there." Julia's words ran again through her head, the significance of them, of what they would mean to that fuzzy haired cowboy, was obvious. That didn't stop Faye from wishing she had never been asked to relay the message. It was hard enough to know that Spike was probably going to put his neck on the line again to get revenge on Vicious and for her, the only woman he'd ever loved. To make things even more complicated, she had left the Bebop to rediscover a past that had been lost for all these years, she had departed from the once fishing vessel for what she thought was the last time.  
  
But the scattered memories that had led her back to Earth were no more. She ultimately realized that while lying on the ground of what use to be her home and looking up among the stars. Not only had practically all the people who had known her in that other life died or became residents at nursing homes, but even the stone and mortar that had been her once house lay in ruins. She was all that remained, all that had survived the cruel hands of time. "Belonging is the best." She had told Edward before flying off in Redtail, and she had meant that statement with all her heart. Belonging was the best way to live, and now she didn't have that. Looking to the past for companions had only dug up skeletons, and the present, well she doubted there were any who would consider her their companion.  
  
Letting out a sigh, she leaned against her MONO and took out a cigarette. Blowing the smoke into the red and orange sky, she knew that she was going to go back to the Bebop, back to him. Even if she would only be in the way, at least she could give him one thing, news of his true love. It didn't matter how much she wished she had never met that beautiful angel, she still was obligated, though she didn't know why, to tell Spike. The cigarette almost a stub, she tossed it to the ground and took off.  
  
"You can't come here and expect me to fix your ship." Admonished Jet like a mother scolding a child. Faye's green eyes darted around the room expectantly. "Where is he?" She asked with a little more force than was necessary." Jet looked confused, why did she come back if it wasn't to have him fix her Redtail? "What?"  
  
"The guy with fuzzy hair, where is he?"  
  
"Spike? He's in the workshop." Jet Black had been about to state that he still wasn't going to do any repairs, but that woman had flown out of the room before he could. Her heart pounded heavily, her pulse throbbing against her neck and ears. Why was she doing this? She had saved Julia's life, there isn't much more you can do for a person. Yet here she was back on the only place during these last few months that resembled anything close to a home, after she had tried to abandon it for a white mansion that now was rubble. Here to deliver a message.  
  
She stood in front of the open door, his back towards her as he prepared a gun. He was going to go down to Mars and fight in what very well may be his last battle. No matter how many guns he prepped, they would be of little help against the sea that was the syndicate. And to tell him what the fallen angel had told her would that lead him to salvation or hell? She was about to say that 'ha ha, you probably won't believe this, but I sorta ran into your old flame and she wanted…' but the words remained lodged in her throat and refused to come out. In desperation she turned to leave, how could she have ever thought that he would care about anything she had to say?  
  
"What's up? You look like you have something on your mind." His calm voice interrupted her plans of escape. He didn't even turn to face her; he had seen her in the glass of water that sat on the table. God, why did she come back? What in the hell had made her feel that she had to play messenger? It wasn't even like she had agreed to take on such a role, but Julia, that damn dangerous, exotic woman had driven off before Faye could ask her how she had known that she knew Spike. Of course, Julia being the perfect woman that she was had gotten the right Faye Valentine.  
  
"Julia asked me to tell you something." She could see the muscles in his back tense at the mention of her name. He quickly discarded the gun and came over to her, his mismatched eyes holding more emotion than she had ever seen. He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, as if afraid she was going to walk away without delivering the message. "What did she say?"  
  
"That you were to meet her there, that you'd know what she meant." For a second confusion reigned before he remembered, the cemetery. She shook off his arms as if the touch had burned her, and it had. He only touched her when he wanted something from Faye, not as a woman but as an informant, fellow bounty hunter, or roommate. He ran off than, ran of to be at her side, and in that instant Faye Valentine knew envy of the harshest denomination. She knew all too well that never would Spike dash to her side, never would he feel anything for her except loathing, contempt, and disgust. He took off and never looked back, because there was nothing on Bebop that could ever measure to the woman he loved.  
  
Owari?  
  
Well, what did you think? I can see this being a one-shot or a series, depending on what all you guys and gals think. Please review and give me your opinions. This is my first Cowboy Bebop fic and I hope to follow it up shortly with more. 


	2. Human Vices

What she needed was to get drunk, to get stinking, wobbly, nauseous, forgettably drunk. But Faye didn't because somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind, she knew she had to stay sober if she were to go out after him. Yeah, she thought sarcastically to herself, Faye Valentine to the rescue again. Even when she had tried to save that Lunkhead's ass, she had failed miserably. And then he had yelled at her for trying to help him. Maybe, just maybe he thought a little kinder of her since she had brought that message back from his one and only love, a woman who was the sun while Faye was the dark, shattered moon. And did Spike even thank her for coming all the way back and delivering a verbal note? Of course not. She hadn't seriously expected such a polite mannerism, but oh god, if he had. If he had just said 'thanks' or 'appreciate it' or 'I owe you one' then she would have cradled those sparse words to her chest and never let them go. But he had run out of there like it was a sinking ship. If only she had known where he was going to go…  
  
"He can take care of himself." Jet's booming voice interrupted her musings by the window. He couldn't remember ever seeing her look so distant. "Not if he wants to be killed, wants to end it all." He voice had lost its edge but still, Jet reeled back slightly as if slapped by that woman. Who the hell was she to make proclamations like that? And how could she admit the truth to herself, when he couldn't?  
  
By no means had Jet's life been easy, but he liked to think that during these past three years, Spike had been one of the few consistencies. The ex-ISSP officer depended on making some amount of order out of the chaos that was the solar system. That was why he so loved his bonsai trees, for they would lead long lives and grow (mostly) the way he had directed. If only he could do the same with those crazy shipmates of his.  
  
"Look here Faye, I didn't let you come back to sprout terrible nonsense. So I would appreciate it if you would stop with this garbage." He stormed off, probably to see to his trees. She shrugged in a gesture of old, "men are such babies." Though she did feel sorry for Jet, she knew she had taken advantage of him in the past, and in the present. He was too good, too concerned, too loyal, and too dependable and they walked over him like a doormat, always pausing to rub the mud off their boots.  
  
And what could be a bigger blow than leaving and not saying goodbye? 


	3. Forsaken Faiths

Title: The Messenger III Author: Obsidian Mist Disclaimer: I'm going out on a limb here and telling all you fine folks that it is in fact true that I do not own Cowboy Bebop. Archived: Well, it is here on Fanfiction.Net but if anyone (anyone at all) would like to post it on another site as well, I might be able to help you out (come on! You know you want it! Right? Please?). Wait a second...is my subliminal mind (who me?) acting up again? Sheesh, I hate it when (oh yeah? Well how do you think I feel eh? Always being thought of as a delusion? Well, buster, let me tell you something, I have feelings too. I just want to) this happens. Ah hem, sorry 'bout that, but if you do want to archive it, just e-mail me at ObsidianMistmsn.com(...and another thing, you always interrupt me whe-) Author notes: So sorry for taking so long to get this part up, I wasn't sure anyone wanted another chapter. Mass crowds scream "We didn't!" Okay...well for those of you who do like this, find it in your heart to write a comment.  
  
The Messenger III  
  
One by one, like leaves from a tree,  
All my faiths have forsaken me.  
-Sara Teasdale  
  
I wonder what he's doing right now. Is he kissing her, whispering declarations of love into her ears? Are they gazing at one another wordless? When he saw her, did he smile, really smile? Not that superior all-too-knowing grin or his bitter smirk, but an actual smile that didn't mock his environment or the people in it. How couldn't he? Julia was so wonderful and enigmatic like a delicate butterfly in a garden or a comet streaking across the canvas of the sky. Faye resisted the urge to bang her head against the wall. She had enough junk going on without adding a headache to the list. But as much as she would like to do anything, anything else at all; she was trapped by her envy and longing. What Julia had was so very precious, a man who cared so deeply so strongly about you that they scour the solar system just to find her. No one would ever come so far after me, not anyone who wanted me and not my wulongs. That cowboy idiot had saved her life, but only because it was convenient for him to do so. She had inadvertently become the bait to ensnare Vicious that was why Spike had come. She had to stop this pointless game. There was no reason to wonder over him, for he'd had left like a man who had no intention of coming back. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, the questions pounded at her much like the banks coming after their money. You think you can elude them by turning that one corner, by burying yourself in tasks, but it's all futile. Fumbling in her pockets she withdrew her cigarette carton to discover it was empty. Glaring at the offending piece of cardboard, she balled it up and threw it across the room, missing the garbage can by scant inches.  
"Damn it all Faye! Pick that up!" His hands on his hips he made an intimidating sight, but she couldn't care less. "Yeah, whatever Jet." She automatically reached to get a smoke before realizing she was out. "This is my ship, and on my ship you pick up after yourself."  
"If you're gonna get so uptight about it, than throw it away yourself." And that was the proverbial last straw for Jet Black. First his best buddy ditches him for some chick he hasn't seen in years, then it looks like said cowboy might be developing a deathwish, and now that woman was trashing his ship. It took him four strides to reach her. Faye's eyes widened at the looming figure; she had never seen him look so mad. He jabbed a finger at her shoulder hard. "Bitch, who do you think you are that you can do whatever you want whenever you want?"  
"Spike, maybe? Seems he fits that description pretty well." The look he gave her, that chilling angry look would make almost anyone vacate the premises immediately. Faye was not most people, but still she took an involuntary step back and the cool wall thrust against her back.  
For one heated second, all Jet wanted to do was hit her, hard. "Go to hell." He stormed out of the room, probably to meet up with those bonsais of his. At least his trees wouldn't talk back to him.  
Behind him Faye laughed coldly, "I'm already in hell." Part of Jet, the soft, compassionate, caring side that usually only left him broke and alone wanted to retract that hurtful statement, felt it necessary to make that woman feel better. The once ISSP officer shoved those urges away. No one was ever there for him when the chips were down. Come on, even his former partner in the police force had sold him to the highest bidder and then shot off his arm. His warm right hand unconsciously encompassed its cold mate a daily reminder of how fragile trust really was and how strong greed could grow.  
Meeting and eventually partnering up with Spike had been one of the luckiest things to happen to him. In Spiegel he knew intuitively that neither would double cross the other. And now, when it seemed the end of this tale, that fact had remained true, in a sense. Spike had never set out to get Jet bodily hurt, but the foolish man never took into account matters of the heart. Or that he wasn't some sort of superhuman invulnerable to all means of destruction and terror. Of course his recklessness had been an asset at times, but this, this was enough to reverse every good thing that had come out of Spiegle's unplanned actions.  
He remained in the entrance to the room his back to Faye as he reflected. She shifted uneasily, why was he just standing there? He was starting to creep her out. When Jet Black lost his temper, really lost it not just yelling or shouting, he was... Actually, she didn't know. She had never been privy to that sight, and wasn't in the least regretful. But a moment ago, he was one straw away from it. And she realized that she had been that next to last straw. Moving slowly, as if faced with a hungry grizzly or a disgruntled postal worker, she picked up the crumpled cardboard and deposited it in the nearest receptacle. There was no more Ed or Ein to act as a buffer, to remind the adults that not everything was gloom and doom; so Ms. Valentine realized it might be time to stop acting the shrew and start being a partner. Start rebuilding a life that of late was becoming unstable. Even though they were only mere feet apart, the chasm was starting to grow. Author's Note: For once, I've uploaded two chapters instead of one. So instead of bemoaning the fact that I take way too long to post stuff, you can just press that nifty button down there and go on to the next section. Obsidian Mist Signing off 


	4. Loveliness Passing

Title: The Messenger IV Author: Obsidian Mist Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Cowboy Bebop, what were you thinking? Archived: Here (no da) but if you would like to post on your site, just drop me a note at ObsidianMistmsn.com Warnings: If you haven't seen the end of the show, don't read this. Also there is some language.  
  
The Messenger IV  
  
What is lovely never dies.  
But passes into other loveliness.  
-Thomas Bailey Aldrich  
  
"Dead." Mankind has made an ugly habit out of designating four letter words to be vulgar and crude, and neither the tall man nor the dark- haired woman were strangers to such forms of conversation. Why was it then that this four-letter word loomed like a cloud on Venus over them? Both puffed away on their nicotine sticks avoiding eye contact. Conceding that if they didn't see anyone they would thusly be alone. Her throat clenched and her stomach lurched several moments later when the hideous word had time to sink in. Spike wasn't going to come back. She had already expected that, remorse over his loss to that fallen angel. But...he truly couldn't come back even if he wanted to. Five, ten, twenty years down the line he wouldn't ever again dock his baby and saunter in. Even if Jet made the biggest bowl of bell peppers and beef that fuzzy haired guy would be absent from the meal. Never again in the history of mankind would those sarcastic remarks be made while flying far to fast in a pink souped up craft. The fingerprint he had left in her mind and unfortunately on her heart as well could never be removed. Tears flowed down her cheeks, their coolness little relief to her warm flesh. Left hand rose to dam the flow, the right trembled with the force of her agony and finally dropped the still hot cigarette.  
No matter how many more years she lived, Faye Valentine would never forget this one moment in time, never let the man who had caused those tears fade away in her memories. But would he, wherever he was, remember the second woman to love him? If he did, how would his spirit regard this fool who tried to care for a man already tied to another woman? The thought made her chest tighten, caused her heart to ache both figuratively and in reality. No, she would not allow those emotions to mix in. Just as he'd refused her, she would refuse that rejection to become a part of her.  
Jet lifted his view from an inspection of his shoes to that woman's face and was surprised to see her crying. Not a theatric two tears streaming down a porcelain visage but twin streams flowing over a ruddy nose accompanied with a choking sound emanating from her throat. Hell, she really cared about him. The discarded cigarette's smoke curled up like a hand reaching toward the stars. At any other time the scene she created would have made him uncomfortable. Men like him didn't deal well with crying females since they were usually the ones to make them cry in the first place. However it soothed him slightly. No man should exit the world without a woman crying over him, and since Julia wasn't around to bid farewell, Faye would give him that sendoff.  
Flopping to her knees, the one person on Bebop who never seemed to give a damn for anyone but herself wailed and keened like a heartbroken siren. Any dignity Faye wanted to preserve was forgotten as she let grief consume her wholly. Knowing that Jet was in still in the room didn't embarrass her in the least. How can one feel such petty emotions as shame when they've lost something so dear?  
"I'm so sorry." His voice seemed deeper more prophetic. Unable to comment, she merely nodded, thick hair obscuring her vision. She wasn't acknowledging his words but rather returning them to him. If it hadn't been for her, that lunk head might still have been there bitching about how hungry he was. If only she had never run off and met up with Julia. Never agreed to play messenger between star-crossed lovers. She had no right to take on such a role, no right to have abandoned Bebop in the first place and expected to be let back on again.  
Ten minutes, twenty, thirty passed by the pair to wrapped up in misery to mark time's eternal journey. Literally out of tears, she brushed messy royal purple hair out of bottle green eyes. Absently she wished for a smoke but was too tired to bother. Jet had, at some point, sat down on the couch, head buried in hands. And would anyone find issue with him if he eyes did look a little red and his goatee slightly damp? No one that fully understood the heavy weight of loss.  
  
Author's Note: When I saw the last episode of CB, I was, to say the least, surprised. Yet, I feel it was one of the best-done endings for an anime. And I have no lingering doubts about what actually happened. While sad, it was a powerful finale that let you see just how complicated the characters are. Please review this and tell me if there is any more steam left to make another chapter to The Messenger. Or you could just tell me how much you like it! ;-) Obsidian Mist Signing Off  
  
"We're exiting the atmosphere." Jet said softly as if the words were offending. Faye merely snorted with derision. "If I never see this damn planet again I wouldn't give a damn." Still, she looked out the window, to see the fourth planet for one last time. It seemed even redder than in past memory, as if it had absorbed Spike's blood into its mantle and crust. Mars, the god of war. Here Spike, a man who felt he had nothing to fight for, fought to the death. In those last moments, thought she hadn't been witness, he had become a true warrior and began to lose his humanity. Feeling the slight stinging pain behind her eyes, she quickly took out her nail file and worked out the ragged edges. "Where are we going?" She asked trying to make the question sound mundane. She took comfort that she could use 'we' in that sentence, in the fact that Jet wasn't booting her off anytime soon. "Ganymede. We could both use some time. And I have contacts there so we can hunt another bounty." His shoulders bunched but still he kept turned from her. "It's what we do." He said in a tone even deeper than usual. They stood there on the bridge in companionable silence for an hour or two. It was surprising how easily they stood each other's company now, in silence or conversation. Though, more often than not, it was the former. Both had never felt so abandoned or so alone and that drew them together, formed an invisible line that connected them both. They were a woman without a past, or a place to go home to, and a man who would give anything to forget his. If they lost each other now, or even down the road, could they truly remain existing?  
Three days later they landed in the harbor of Ganymede and felt earth beneath their feet for the first time since...In a tacit agreement, neither ever mentioned that horrendous day or the actions resulting from it. The wounds were still too fresh and required tight wraps. 


End file.
